They Call Me Mrs Robinson
by B.G.Heron
Summary: A story from the perspective of none other than Elena Lincoln, also known as Mrs. Robinson as well as just a few other names.
1. Chapter 1

They Call Me Mrs. Robinson – Chapter 1

A/N : A story from the perspective of none other than Elena Lincoln, also known as Mrs. Robinson as well as just a few other names. I am submitting the very beginning of this story to start in hopes that it will garner some interest. If those of you who read it find it interesting, please review and let me know your thoughts as well as your interests for the future storyline. Future, much longer chapters, are in the works. Thanks for your time and for reading!

I am looking out the window into our home's backyard. I am watching intently as I decide if my earlier intentions will be borne out. There, sweating freely, is my dear friend's son, Christian Grey. My friend is Dr. Grace Trevelyan Grey, mother to three children and wife of Carrick Grey. Like my husband and myself, they could not have biological children of their own. Unlike myself, they have large, caring hearts and, therefore, chose to adopt children. We've run in the same upper class circles in suburban Seattle for quite some time now. Grace has thankfully confided in me innumerable times over the years. It is so helpful to have private information without even searching it out on one's own. Of course, if dear Grace had any idea about my proclivities, I don't think she would be quite so friendly or so forthcoming about anything, least of all her beloved children. I have needs that dear Grace could never possibly comprehend. My own husband has certainly failed at meeting those needs. I have tried to encourage a more aggressive style from him to no avail. Then again, there is no need for him to know the full extent of the dark depths of my heart and psyche. My past has remained safely hidden for more than 20 years. Parts of my present must remain equally so, except with a chosen few. And as my gaze becomes hungry, I believe I may well have found a new confidant right in my very own backyard.

As I admire his beautiful angry face that just hints at what he will become at a man, Grace's recent revelations come to mind.

"Elena, Carrick and I are just at a loss as to what we can't do to help him. I have loved that boy since they first brought him to me in the hospital 11 years ago. But my love isn't helping enough right now. We have brought him to the best psychiatrists. Nothing is stopping the horrid, violent fights. Nothing is keeping him from drinking any alcohol he can get his hands on. My heart just breaks for him anew every day. I worry about his present and I worry about his future. I know that Christian has potential beyond my wildest dreams, but I cannot image how we are going to help him reach it."

Oh, my friend, I think to myself, perhaps I can be of assistance.


	2. Chapter 2

They Call Me Mrs. Robinson – Chapter 2

A/N : A story from the perspective of none other than Elena Lincoln, also known as Mrs. Robinson as well as just a few other names. [Disclaimer: There is no infringement intended by this fan fiction story. I do not own/am not affiliated with any of these characters or creator of these characters. I represent nothing but the original storyline, derived purely for pleasure, as my own.]

Hi Readers! I would like to thank you for already being here and taking the time to read my work. I know it's taken a bit for me to get rolling on chapters. I've been researching and writing for the last week. This topic turned out to be more difficult to write than I anticipated. I'm pleased to announce that I would make a poor pedophile. This is my first fiction story and being used to help me with some rehabilitation. Your reviews and encouragement are appreciated more than I can express. Chapter 3 will be posted immediately and Chapter 4 is in the works. Again, thank you so much. – BG Heron

As my plans began to take shape in my head, I began to plant the seeds with my dear friend, Grace.

She had come to confide in me almost daily by now about Christian. She was plagued by worries that Carrick would judge her somehow, or even worse, begin to give up on Christian. While I clearly saw that she loved those three children with all that she had, and most especially Christian, I could hear in her voice that she was fearful that the whole family dynamic was suffering. Everything was set for me to slip in my not so subtle suggestion. I just needed Grace to believe that she and Carrick were really the ones in control. Little did she know.

We sat down for tea one afternoon and she began her lament. I felt that the time was finally right for me to present my idea.

"Grace, I certainly don't want to speak out of turn but I had a thought that I wanted to get your opinion on. You know that I only was the very best for your family", I said practically.

"Elena, I cannot thank you enough for letting me sound my concerns. I am so grateful to have such a loyal friend. They are not easy to come by in our circles," she softly laughed. "Tell me what your thought is. "  
"Well," I began in a soothing voice, "I was thinking that, perhaps, Christian would benefit from a job. Something physical to let off some steam as well as something to boost his self-confidence. I've read about how effective both can be to a teenage boy. "

"Oh, dear. I really do appreciate it, Elena, but I can't see Carrick being comfortable with that. He barely allows Christian to leave the house. He really needs adult supervision right now. The last thing we would need would be some additional harm to come to him. Even though he is so closed, he is still so susceptible to outside influences. "

"I'm sure your right, Grace, but let me give you the whole picture and then, please, I know you will do what is the very best for Christian", I said softly. I needed her to believe that I had only the best of intentions. For them.

"Certainly. Go on," Grace said and smiled.

"I have some work on my property that I've not hired anyone to take care of yet. Just simple yard work. I am happy to stay at home and supervise Christian myself. I know money is not an issue, but perhaps a paycheck for work well done will bring him some self confidence. I can't imagine that burning off extra physical energy in a constructive manner couldn't be helpful. I would never let this little job interfere with his schoolwork. Do you think this idea might be helpful for Christian? I only want to do right by you and your family." I quietly took a deep breath and then held it.

"I would have to talk it over with Carrick, naturally, but I do hear what you are saying. Perhaps this could be just what Christian needs," she smiled widely and exhaled loudly. "I just want him to be happy. He deserves it so much. "

"Yes, Grace, he certainly does".

So, it was really no surprise to me when Grace and Carrick called and we started to make arrangements for Christian to come to me to work. I suspected that it would work out very well for both Christian and myself. But even I didn't suspect just how well. My plan was simple. I would have Christian start in my yard. And then it would all truly begin with a slap. A nice, strong slap.

Post A/N: The next chapter will provide Elena's background and the emergence of her BDSM tendencies. I'm posting it right after Chapter 2 is up. Thank you so much for reading and, please review. I have the storyline mapped out but suggestions and thoughts are always appreciated. – BG Heron


	3. Chapter 3

They Call Me Mrs. Robinson - Chapter 3:

A/N : A story from the perspective of none other than Elena Lincoln, also known as Mrs. Robinson as well as just a few other names. [Disclaimer: There is no infringement intended by this fan fiction story. I do not own/am not affiliated with any of these characters or creator of these characters. I represent nothing but the original storyline, derived purely for pleasure, as my own.]

CHANGE THIS : Hi Readers! I would like to thank you for being here for my third chapter and taking the time to read my work. I've been researching and writing for the last week. This topic turned out to be more difficult to write than I anticipated. Please be advised that this is for adult readers only due to the serious topic. I'm pleased to announce that I would make a poor pedophile. This is my first fiction story and being used to help me with some rehabilitation. Your reviews and encouragement are appreciated more than I can express.

I knew what I needed. I just had to teach that beautiful boy. Beautiful man. After all, he was nearly a man. He was well over 6 feet tall. I could see through his sweaty t-shirt that his muscles had already filled out in both his chest and arms. And that face. Well. The permanent scowl in no way marred that perfect symmetry. It only enhanced it for me. It showed the promise of anger welling up from inside that I was so eager to tap into.

I had learned about anger and submission and how closely they were tied to each other. And as far as self-loathing and proper punishment, well, no one in my social circle could guess, but I was a master. I had begun perfecting my mask from a rather young age. I had developed it to both hide my true inside as well as make my desires unknown to anyone on the outside. It took a dedicated person to be able to satisfy one's desires without attracting unwelcome attention from the community. I had learned that Seattle really was a small town when it came to gossip and, let's say, more sophisticated tastes. When I considered all that I had to show and teach him, I realized that Christian was so very fortunate for me to have found him when I did.

There really was so little about sex, submission and domination that didn't know. I made sure of that. I believed, after all, that anything worth learning was worth learning very well . I had started my own personal journey into the still somewhat covert world of BDSM many years ago.

My family was picture perfect from the outside. I never wanted for a single thing of monetary value. My older parents made sure of that. To say that theirs was an arranged marriage might be too simple. Their families were known to each other on the east coast of the states and my parents were expected to make a good marriage out of two excellent families. Love was not even considered. It was fairly early into their marriage, when my parents were unable to create their expected progeny, that a problem developed.

Infertility was a verboten subject in both their families. I suspect that my mother felt horribly guilty that she was unable to provide the perfect child that was expected. Further, my father felt insulted that he was incapable of something that so many less fortunate, teenagers even, found so easy to do while intoxicated in the back of a car. They needed a discrete solution. My mother found one at the local golf club.

I've never known his name, nor even do I think my mother did. At the annual Summer social she fortified herself with four martini's and a smile before presenting herself to a very handsome golf professional who was more than willing to oblige her.

The following Spring, I was born and both families were content. That was the appearance that was given off to any in their social sphere who took notice. What went on behind closed doors was a completely different matter.

People would comment that I obtained my cool looks and my quiet personality from my father. My father took every opportunity that he could to repay my mother the compliment by beating or whipping her. It was done behind closed doors in a large home where I was never expected to listen. But I did. I listened to him tell her what scum she had fucked. I heard him tell her that she had debased herself to a level that no proper society woman belonged. It sounded to me, by her silence, that she believed it.

The only passion between my parents, according to my youthful ears, existed after a swift lashing during what my father called a punishment fuck. I began to believe that I, myself, deserved to be punished for my origins. Yet, at the same time I was infuriated. I was angry beyond all contemplation at everyone who had deceived me and everyone who believed the lie. Our lives would never permit such expression. I held it in.

When I went away to university, I sought out aggressive men that seemed to sense my inner desire to be punished. It made day to day life bearable to me when I thought of the spanking I might receive if I angered my date enough. I didn't know what to call it then but I knew what I craved. By then my parents were elderly and their approval no longer mattered.

That was when my real education began and my true self emerged from the shadows.

Post A/N: Next chapter will explore the development of Elena as a Domme as well as her experience as a submissive. Thank you so much for reading and, please review. I have the storyline mapped out but suggestions and thoughts are always appreciated. – BG Heron


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